


good times to weigh the worth

by xiaoyu_e



Category: Naruto
Genre: Brotherly Love, F/M, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Time Loop, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiaoyu_e/pseuds/xiaoyu_e
Summary: A small part of him, the logical bit, wished he was dead. Tobirama was tired, so tired, after he buried Hashirama.Yet, the foolish half of him clutched at Tobirama like a dying man. And Tobirama knew, that he would do anything to save hisAnija.But sometimes...desperation meant nothing in the face of reality.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 35
Kudos: 363





	1. painting the beginning

It was fitting, in an ironic way. 

After his dear brothers had died, Tobirama spent most of his earlier years trying to defy death. And try as he may, he never managed to succeed.

( _At least not fully...Edo Tensei, his greatest success and his greatest failure._ )

So it was fitting, for him to finally outsmart death...in the one way he had never really wanted to.

He had once heard from the Elders that he was supposed to be the runt of the family, born small and frail. Sickly. But as a child, he was quite tall. In fact, Tobirama had been taller than Itama, his twin brother two minutes his senior, and even nearing Kawarama’s height, who was three years older than him.

Yet, right now, he was nowhere near the height he had been when he died the night before. 

“Tobira,” the door to his room opened as a small child walked inside. Tobirama squinted at him, vision far too poor without his sensing ability, before his heart lurched with pain.

It had been a lifetime since he last saw this boy.

This boy, this child, _his older twin brother._

“Itama,” Tobirama breathed, trembling. His brother walked over, closer, blurriness melting away and becoming clear enough for Tobirama to see his red-rimmed eyes and white hair.

 _Oh_.

His white hair.

If Itama already had white hair, it meant Tobirama was too late. Too late, and far too early.

“Tobira,” Itama said again, breathy voice cracking. He looked exhausted as he crumpled down beside his twin, before he buried his face into Tobirama’s chest. Itama’s next words came out muffled, with the hint of a sob in his voice.

“Tobira...Kawa- _nii_ is... _gone_.”

( _He was too late._ )

Even at four, Itama’s skill in _iryo-jutsu_ was formidable. Enough that Butsuma had allowed Itama to help out in the infirmary, and enough that Itama was there to see the medics fail to save Kawa- _nii_.

Itama used to have beautiful brown hair, the same colour as Kawarama’s and a shade lighter than Hashirama’s. He had lost half of that chocolate brown to a bleached white, after he watched their Kawa- _nii_ die.

Whitened due to trauma, the medics had said.

“I’m sorry...”

Tobirama blinked blankly at the child cuddling him. In his first life, he had stayed up late to wait for his twin brother’s return, to wait for good news. And when bad news inevitably came instead, he had crawled into Itama’s lap and cried silently until Hashirama came to comfort them.

Back then, Itama, his older twin brother, shorter than him but already helping out the medics, seemed so big as he comforted him despite crying himself.

But right now, Tobirama could only see a young, heartbroken child with small chubby cheeks and even smaller hands.

His older brother...but _not_.

“You did your best,” Tobirama said solemnly as he tentatively reached out to pat his crying ( _baby_ ) brother’s back. “Kawa- _nii_ knows that too. You did your best, Itama.”

Curled up in his lap, Itama only let out a wretched sob.

* * *

Contrary to his beliefs, Tobirama managed to cry before Kawa- _nii_ ’s funeral.

Yet, it wasn’t because of Kawa- _nii_.

“Don’t cry,” a soft voice crooned as the warm body hugging him rocked back and forth. “Don’t cry, _Anija_ is here.”

It had been two years since Hashirama passed away in his time. Two years where Tobirama was left adrift in a world alone by himself, with a village entrusted into his hands and another war brewing on the horizon.

It had been two years since he buried Hashirama.

( _And what a terrible brother Tobirama was, to not cry for his poor Kawa-nii._

_But could anyone blame him? He had already mourned for Kawa-nii, the brother he only knew for four years. He had mourned for Itama too, when his twin perished as well. But Hashirama…_

_Tobirama didn’t think he would ever get over Hashirama’s death._ )

The Hashirama holding him right now wasn’t his Hashirama. Tobirama knew this. Knew because this Hashirama was too small, hands too soft, voice too high-pitched.

But pathetically enough, he still felt comforted by the tiny, ten-year old version of his _Anija_.

Because this was still his _Anijia_. An _Anija_ who wasn’t wracked with grief for Madara, who still looked at Tobirama like he had hung the moon in the sky, who was still _alive_.

This was a version of his _Anija_ , who Tobirama could still _save_.

Soft fingers tenderly wiped away the tears on his cheeks. Hashirama, still with his ridiculously ugly bowl cut at this age, smiled confidently at him. “Don’t cry anymore, Tobira- _chan_. Kawa- _chan_...Kawa- _chan_ is gone, but _Anija_ will always protect you.”

In his first life, this was all Tobirama saw, Hashirama’s confidence and maturity. His big, warm hands and his gentle voice. But now...now, Tobirama could see his older brother’s red-rimmed eyes and the quiet anger brewing in his gaze.

“Me too,” Tobirama suddenly spoke up. “ _Anija_ , I will protect you too.”

He was too late to save Kawarama, but he could protect Hashirama and Itama. After all, for him to appear here instead of the Pure Lands, what other purpose could he serve if not to save his brothers?

This time, Tobirama will not fail.

* * *

He doesn’t quite remember what had happened before he died. It had been a painful death, drawn out minute by minute as he slowly bled out.

It had been a satisfying one too, because Tobirama had not fallen until all of his enemies were dead.

After that...after that, something must have happened. Something had to have happened, because normally, dead people didn’t wake up years in the past. At least, Tobirama didn’t think they did, although it was true nobody had tested that hypothesis yet…

No. It wouldn’t make sense, for everyone to redo their lives after they have died.

Perhaps he was in a dream. Perhaps he was in a _genjutsu_. But until it was proven that what he was experiencing right now wasn’t real, Tobirama would regard this as a second chance from the gods.

A second chance to make sure things go _right_ this time.

After all, even good men make mistakes.

This was something Tobirama understood very well.

And considering how he didn’t think he himself was a good man, Tobirama knew he had many, many mistakes to make up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! First time writing here in this circle, hoping to give back to the Founders era a bit after I read all the fics yesterday during my break between studying. I haven't actually gotten to this part in Naruto, so everything from this fic is taken from the wikipedia and fanon. If you see anything similar, that's probably why!
> 
> Feedback fuels me, please tell me what you think! Not ashamed to admit that update schedule will probably be dependent on how much people like this 😂
> 
> Thanks!


	2. with grey grief

Hashirama was only ten-years old. Thus, Tobirama wasn’t surprised that he was the one who needed to soothe his child-brother, only a mere two days later. The older boy had found him when he was alone in his bedroom, after Itama left for his medical classes.

“It is not right,” Hashirama seethed quietly, childish features scrunched up into something dark, something Tobirama could barely recognize. “For Kawa- _chan_ to die. Children shouldn’t have to fight in a war.”

Tobirama almost forgot to breathe.

Hashirama was— _emoting._

...It felt so strange, to see his brother so young. So carefree. To see Hashirama actually cry from sorrow, to see him rage.

“There wasn’t enough people,” Tobirama pointed out rationally, numbly. He could barely remember how this conversation had gone, except for the ending where both of them had cried while hugging. “Father had to send him.”

“It still isn’t right! It _isn’t fair_! Kawa- _chan_ ’s death was— _pointless_!”

( _To see Anija’s anger, and not flinch away_. )

Hashirama had been Tobirama’s most precious person. It showed in the way the older man had scarred him, not physically, but mentally. Rows and rows of scars that dotted Tobirama’s small heart ( _if he_ — _the White Demon_ — _still had one in the first place_ ), wounds he had to lick by himself in peace.

And in return, although Tobirama was not Hashirama’s most precious existence, he had undoubtedly left the largest mark on his older brother. After all, Hashirama built his strongest mask, his largest lie, all for Tobirama.

Being so upbeat, so optimistic, wasn’t nature as much as it had been nurture. 

“...You’re right,” Tobirama agreed softly, almost breathlessly. It had been so long, since he saw Hashirama be so genuine. 

Although that wasn’t the best way to describe it either. The Hashirama he remembered...was always genuine, always happy, and that was where the problem lay.

Because his brother hadn’t always been like this. He had been a rather cheerful child, of course, but nothing like what his older self had become.

No, his idiotic, doting _Anija_ had _trained_ himself to become like this, to always be optimistic.

And it was all because of Tobirama. Because of his sensing ability.

It had only been one time. He had flinched, because his brother’s chakra was so, so loud, and bore more resemblance to their Father’s than _Anija_ would have ever guessed. And Hashirama had felt so, so angry, even though _Anija_ would have been killed had Tobirama not told their Father about Madara, even though _Anija_ knew Tobirama couldn’t disobey their Father…

In that moment, Hashirama felt so much like their Father. And despite how Tobirama knew his brother would never really hurt him ( _not like Butsuma_ ), he...he had been scared.

And that was all it took. His one tiny flinch had been enough for his brother, a genius in his own right, to figure out what was wrong.

Hashirama had been hurting at Tobirama’s betrayal, at the loss of his best friend. But despite all that, he realized his emotions were hurting Tobirama, and forced himself to change.

Forced himself to become upbeat, to make himself always gloss over sadness. And he had to do it all the time, because of Tobirama’s ridiculously large range for sensing.

Even at the very end, Tobirama didn’t know if his brother had genuinely became more cheerful, or if the older man had just gotten better at deluding himself...but Tobirama had never quite forgiven himself for making his brother do this for him.

“It isn’t fair,” Tobirama repeated softly, “for Kawa- _nii_ to die.”

At his easy acceptance of his words, little Hashirama’s stubborn glare melted away completely, crumpling into a look of heartbreak. Not the childish pouts his brother usually wore on his gentle face, but.

But.

( _The look on his face when Hashirama finally killed Madara._ )

“I will miss Kawa- _chan_ ,” _Anija_ whispered quietly. He took a deep breath and even held it for a few moments, but when it came back out, it had long turned into a wretched sob. The older ( _younger_ ) boy curled up on their bed, the air practically thrumming with the weight of his depression.

Tobirama’s chest hurt. He opened his mouth, to agree with Hashirama, or to say something comforting...but nothing came out.

_Because_ , Tobirama suddenly realized, the pain in his chest worsening. Anything he said would be partly a lie. He didn’t, _wouldn’t_ , miss Kawa- _nii_ the way the current _Anija_ missed him. 

Oh, Tobirama did miss Kawa- _nii_ , still missed him, decades later, even though his recollection of the boy was nothing more than a few grainy—if well guarded—memories. The pain from losing a brother, from losing two, would always be a quiet ache in his heart.

But Tobirama didn’t miss Kawa _-nii_ the way Hashirama missed him. 

Not the way his young _Anija_ , ten-years old with swollen red eyes and blotchy cheeks, would miss the first little brother he ever had, the first little brother he lost.

( _And a small part of Tobirama_ _—_ _one he hated_ _—_ _was thankful he hadn’t developed his sensing abilities yet at this age._

_Otherwise, wouldn’t he have drowned in older brother’s emotions?_

_His brother, always so strong, so powerful, Tobirama’s guiding light_. )

Hashirama was still crying, ugly yet silent tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. Tobirama stared at him, unsure of what to do. Although he adored children, he hadn’t been good with coaxing crying youth. 

Much less his crying brother. These weren’t crocodile tears, after all, and Tobirama knew whacking _Anija_ would only make matters worse. 

In fact, with the nausea rolling in his gut and the absent ache in his heart, Tobirama didn’t know if he could even _stomach_ whacking Hashirama. 

( _Like their Father, a dark part of him reminded him. Who had just hit his brother for crying over Kawarama._ )

After a brief moment, Tobirama shifted over a bit and hesitantly reached out to hug Hashirama. His brother leaned into his touch as he cried, no reservations at all about letting his younger brother see him in such a state.

“I’ll do better in the future,” Hashirama cried, clutching onto him like he was his lifeline. “I promise.”

Tobirama stared at his crying older brother, marvelling at the fact that Hashirama even let himself cry in the first place, and thought, _I will do better too_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and kudo'd, I love you all! I'm pretty surprised there are so many people out there who reads Tobirama-centric fics if I'm being honest.
> 
> Just a few small notes -- some kind commenters said last chapter that Tobirama was the second oldest in canon, and uh. I checked his wikia page and it didn't say that anywhere when I started writing the story, so I guess...just handwave it away please for this fic? 😂 I'm already committed to writing him like he's the baby of the family.
> 
> Also, I am a dying science university student who has no free time at all (and really shouldn't be wasting time on this fic in the first place), so I can't really read or watch Naruto/Warring period to get my facts straight. If there's a nice handy reddit thread or tumblr post about the chronological events for the Founders era, I would really appreciate someone linking me it!!
> 
> I really love all the comments and everyone's enthusiasm, and will probably respond to some tomorrow -- it's currently past 3AM right now but I wanted to post this first because I have the bad habit of obsessively watching the view/kudos/comments counter for this fic increase lol its so addicting. Figured it would be better to post now and wake up to it instead of wasting time tomorrow 😂
> 
> Thanks so much, and please tell me what you think of this chapter! I'll hold the next chapter hostage otherwise ;)


	3. and ashes that burn

Kawa- _nii_ ’s body was so small. 

He had seemed so big, once upon a time, as he patiently taught Tobirama how to hold a kunai. Big and imposing.

But now...

Tobirama stared at the tiny, _tiny_ coffin, and wondered why he had to sit through this again. Was this funeral just a grim reminder of what would happen, if he did not become strong enough to save his remaining brothers? 

Or was fate really this cruel?

Beside him, Itama was weeping quietly. Although the Senju brothers were all close to each other in their own little ways, Itama had always been closer to Kawarama while Tobirama had been closer to Hashirama. 

Tobirama loved Kawarama very much, but their personalities were too...similar. Kawarama had only been seven when he died, but the boy had been strict and stern. 

The second born, forced to submit under their Father’s will when it became obvious that his eldest would not bend. Kawarama had disapproved of Hashirama’s childish, boisterous antics, but he had also frowned at Tobirama’s flowering genius.

( _Once upon a time, before young Tobirama’s sensing abilities developed, he had wondered if Kawa-nii disliked him because his older brother was jealous._

_Now, older and wiser, Tobirama could deduce that the boy just didn’t want his little brother to be dispatched on the field so quickly._

_Kawa-nii had only been afraid for his sake._ )

Itama—sweet, gentle Itama—used to be the only one who could wheedle out smiles from their second eldest brother. But now, Kawa- _nii_ is gone.

He would never be able to give Itama another smile, never again.

To Itama, Kawa- _nii_ had been what Hashirama was to Tobirama. And Tobirama fully understood what it felt like, to lose your most precious somebody.

Inconspicuously, Tobirama reached down to grasp Itama’s hand before giving it a soft squeeze. He ignored Father’s rant about Itama’s tears (miraculously, Father also ignored how he was now holding Itama’s hand), and then braced himself for what would happen next. 

_SMACK!_

An aborted cry.

Hashirama exploded at their Father and the following slap rang out into the air, loud and clear. However, Tobirama forced himself to not react.

Senju Butsuma had been a man typical of their current era, where juniors must respect their seniors and administering discipline was something done out of both duty and love. Their Father saw nothing wrong in punishing his children when they spoke out of line, and rather than venting out an uncontrollable rage, his disciplinary actions were always steady and composed. 

Each and every move of his was calculated, and his heavy hand was to ensure his children understood the life lesson he was imparting. Tobirama didn’t agree with his methods at all—in fact, he hated and abolished such practices with his brother after Hashirama came into power—but at least now, he understood his Father.

In his first life, Tobirama couldn’t stand to see his brother hurt. He had stepped in front of Hashirama and cut off Butsuma’s reprimanding lecture. Perhaps their Father thought he and Itama were too young to see something like that so soon, and so soon after Kawa- _nii_ died.

After all, thinking back now, it had been obvious that Father had reevaluated his plans. The man ended up swallowing the rest of his words and leaving his children early.

As a result, after the funeral, Hashirama suffered through hellish training for the entire next month. Their Father only stopped pushing him so hard after Hashirama had an accident during training, resulting in an infected wound that made him develop a high fever which almost took his life.

And right now, Tobirama couldn’t even save himself, much less his beloved older brother.

Even though Tobirama had been the second Hokage only nights before, he was...helpless right now. It rankled him, but his weak, child body couldn’t do anything to his Father, even with all the knowledge of jutsus at his disposal.

What use were the jutsus he could once do, the jutsus he had created himself, if he didn’t have enough chakra nor the required control? If he couldn’t use them right now?

( _And although he held no lost love for their Father, could he really afford to go against him now?_ )

But Tobirama didn’t want to watch his _Anija_ suffer again.

Thus, he clamped down on Itama’s hand, preventing his ( _younger_ ) older brother from going to Hashirama’s aid. Their _Anija_ didn’t need anyone’s help, much less the aid from his younger brothers.

Hashirama was an intelligent boy under his cheerful exterior. After his emotional outburst, Tobirama watched his older brother’s face blank as their Father began droning on about his ideals. His _Anija_ began nodding obediently every time their Father paused, appearing as if he was truly taking Butsuma’s lesson to heart.

And once their Father was finally done, once Butsuma finally left them to grieve by themselves, Tobirama rushed over with Itama. While his twin hugged Hashirama, Tobirama concentrated before he reached out to touch the bruise on his _Anija_ ’s cheek. A flicker of green healing chakra later, Hashirama’s tan skin looked flawless once more.

_( Big brother, I’m sorry for not defending you. )_

“Tobira- _chan_?” Hashirama gaped at him. So did Itama. After all, Tobirama hadn’t shown even an ounce of interest in _iryo-jutsu_ before.

“When did you learn how to do that?”

“...Just recently,” Tobirama replied vaguely before he hugged his brothers too. His reticence—and perhaps the look on his face, although Tobirama couldn’t guess what expression he was currently making—made Hashirama pause, before a warm hand stroked his head.

 _Anija_ didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he said,“Thank you, little brother.”

( ... _Anija thanked him despite his inaction._

 _The words of gratitude only made Tobirama feel a deep, horrid sense of shame._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH thank you to everyone's continued support!! I said I would respond to comments but I ended up using all the free time I allotted for this week to write the chapter instead, sorry ⊙︿⊙. But please know that I read everyone's comments and they made me very happy! I'm not in any groups or know anyone who likes this pairing so this is the most interaction I can get with fellow Tobirama lovers 😂 Actually, I wouldn't have updated this week without them ahahahaha, it has been a long week of midterms.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter even though it's on the shorter side, and see you next time!!


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